The Drawer of Ideas and Impossible Things
by Alatar Maia
Summary: Where I put all the little ideas I get but don't want to fully write out. Some are inspired by other stories on here. More than just Supernatural and the Avengers, I promise. If you see something you'd like me to make a full story, review!
1. Chapter 1

Inspired by inukagome15's The Last Archangel. Enjoy! I do not own Supernatural or the Avengers

I dunno, I just think Gabriel and Tony are a really good fit.

* * *

It was really supposed to be a normal day. As normal as it got for the Avengers, at least. Today was a universal day off for about half of SHIELD, which Fury regretted and swore to fix in the future but for now there were agents de-suited and scattered around the world, enjoying a day that did not involve massive alien invasions or super-soldiers or snarky billionaires or archers who found it fun to hide in ceiling ducts or anything of the sort. The Avengers themselves could be quite frustrating.

The other four Avengers [Thor was away back in Asgard] thought it would be funny to surprise Tony, and so they all met up in Stark tower and took the elevator up to the penthouse.

What they _didn't _expect the doors to open on was Tony having a shouting match with a man who didn't look like he was related to any sort of business.

"You _lost _it?" No one had known that Tony could sound quite so furious.

"I didn't _lose _it-"

"Oh so I just imagined you saying you didn't know where it was!"

"I borrowed quite a lot and hid it in multiple places, do you expect me to remember exactly where I put everything?" The stranger snapped, his British accent growing thicker in anger. "Oh that's right, you expect everyone to be perfect like you!"

"I think you've confused me for Michael-and yeah, I thought maybe you'd remember where you hid something that important!"

"It's not like I thought you'd need it back!"

"_Oh _so I wasn't there to look over your shoulder so you just thought 'oh, it's okay, he won't miss it!' how does that even _work _Balthazar!"

"I said that I'd look for it!"

"That's not helpful, because I need it _now_!"

"It won't take long!"

"And how long is 'not long', a year? Like the last time you said 'not long'?"

"Oh, you do not even get to go _anywhere near _using that against me!" 'Balthazar' turned to watch Tony pace and caught sight of his shocked teammates in the elevator. "Er, G- Tony?"

"What?" Tony snapped, whirling around to be confronted with the same sight.

"Oh."

"What the hell is going on here?" demanded Natasha, who had finally found her voice.

"Is there someone here who's not going to report it straight to Fury?" Tony's temper hadn't diminished, though he was visibly trying to be more civil with them.

"Hey!" objected Clint. "Screw SHILED, I think we've got a right to know why you're having a shouting match with this guy."

Tony stared at them-did he look almost desperate? -Before throwing his hands up. "Okay, fine. I was shouting at him because he'd lost something of mine."

"I just said-" the other man objected.

"Shut up, Balthazar!" Tony snapped. "You fucking lost it and you cannot deny it and do you mind not interrupting while I am having a conversation? _Don't you dare leave,_" he warned, for no apparent reason. He spun back to his teammates. "Look, I guess I'll understand if you don't want me around anymore-hell, you can leave if you like since SHIELD didn't really want me around in the first place-"

"Tony," Steve said, hiding his worry, "No one's kicking you out. What's going on?"

The grey-haired man had been eyeing them oddly, almost disdainfully, ever since the rest of the team had arrived. He rolled his eyes at Tony, who raked his hands through his hair, his anger dissolving into nervousness.

"Well, um, I was having an argument when you guys showed up,"

"What did he lose?" Clint interrupted.

"What?"

"You were arguing about something your friend had lost," Natasha pointed out.

"Yes. Well. It was something kind of important. Nothing for you to worry about, though, we'll have it solved soon enough-" he shot a glare at the other man "_hopefully._"

"I think it is our business," said Bruce sternly, but before he could go any further the other man interrupted him.

"You're not really going to lead these mud monkeys on even longer, are you?"

While the Avenger's minds wondered what he meant by _mud monkey_, Tony whirled on him.

"Don't call them that."

"Don't call them what they are? You've drifted quite aways off the beaten track, haven't you, _Gabriel_?"

"Gab-" Steve didn't finish the sentence before the argument was in full swing again.

"Oh, and the beaten path is such a good place to be!"

"It worked, you helped keep it in order!"

"Yes, for a fraction of the time anyone actually used it!"

"Oh yes, that's right, you left!"

"If you're trying to make me ashamed then _bring it_, Balthazar, because I could kick your ass seven ways to Sunday and still have time to rest!"

"Fighting on Sunday, what would Father say?"

"Father can _kiss my ass_, if he cared he would've shown up!"

"And you think he'd condone this, hanging about with _humans_ and playing games?"

This day was starting to go places that no one had expected it too.

"Okay, everybody SHUT UP!" Bruce yelled, managing to shout over Tony and his 'friend'. They both snapped their heads to look at him- it seemed even 'Balthazar' knew about the Hulk.

"We are going to sit down," said Bruce evenly, ignoring the cautious looks from the rest of the team, "And you are going to explain _exactly _what is going on here."

"Hm. How about, fuck that," said Balthazar, and vanished from the spot so suddenly that the phrase 'here one minute, gone the next' had a brand new meaning. The flutter of wings that accompanied his disappearance echoed in the thick silence that now occupied the tower.

Tony felt the eyes of his teammates on him. "I can explain," he said, hoping he wasn't about to be locked up as one of SHILED's new experiments.


	2. Chapter 2

**Well hello! This story was mainly produced once I learned that there were not Harry Potter and Totoro crossovers! I of course rushed to fix this problem, and well, the result stands-or sits on the screen, rather- before you. I don't know how often updates will come, since I'm in the middle of finals, but for now enjoy! It's not meant to be very long, and I'm not sure how well this turned out but oh well. Just for your info, this all takes place after the movie! Satsuki and Mei are both older than Harry.  
**

**"English"**

**"|Japanese|"**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Totoro or Harry Potter.**

* * *

Minerva McGonagall stepped smoothly onto the grassy field in which the portkey deposited her, still slightly queasy from the international trip. Japan, of all places, was the last place she'd think to look for Harry Potter.

She surveyed the area, taking in her surroundings. The field was quite wide and deserted, which was probably why the Japanese officials had chosen it for her destination, but in the distance the rooftops of a town could be seen. Judging by the tile and height, it seemed relatively unaffected by whatever sweeping changes had occurred in London, architecture-wise at least.  
Whatever the case, Saitama Perfecture was an old-fashioned little town inland on the island of Honshu. Despite its relative closeness to the capital of Tokyo, it seemed unaffected by time and could have easily been any village circa the late 1950s.

"Konnichiwa!" Someone called from behind her, and Minerva turned to see a woman in a bright kimono smiling at her. "You are McGonagall-san, correct?"

"Yes," said Minerva, holding out her hand. "Are you the representative?"

The woman took her hand and shook it firmly. "I am. My name is Satomi Kurosaki. While you are here, I will also act as a translator, since I have been warned that you do not speak Japanese?"

"I do not," Minerva replied. "There isn't much call for it in my line of work."

"Understandable." Satomi gestured towards the village. "There is a path that way, if you will follow me. Who is it you are looking for?"

"Hogwarts has a message system which automatically writes out a recipient's location on their acceptance letter," Minerva explained. "Harry Potter's letter was addressed here, to this address." She showed Satomi the letter.

If Satomi was surprised by the mention of Harry Potter or the address, the only tell was the slight widening of her eyes. "Yes, I know where that is. Would you like me to show you?"

"That would be wonderful." Minerva stepped lightly over the grass, listening to Satomi talk as the walked towards the road.

"You may be a little late," she said cheerfully. "Schools here in Japan start much earlier than eleven, and 'Harry' may already be attending one."

"Well, I'm sure I can try at least," said Minerva, trying not to let her affront show. Hogwarts was the best in all of Europe! But then again, she thought to herself, who said the boy would be willing to go overseas when there were perfectly good schools here?

The road was packed dirt, and as they walked along it Minerva saw workers in rice paddies on either side and old houses that looked as though they had been there for decades. A forest loomed on the edge of the town, one tree swelling high above the others.

A clatter from behind warned the pair of the people immediately behind them, and a couple children darted down the road on bikes, yelling excitedly to each other. A smaller child followed behind, tailed by an older boy in a cap and school uniform. He nodded respectfully as he passed them, curiously glancing at Minerva.

The house the letter in Minerva's hand was addressed to was another old one, farther out from the rest of the town and right on the edge of the forest. It was white with a little red roof, and the path up to the door was partly a bridge that ran over a little creek full of tiny black fish.

Satomi rapped smartly on the door several times, and an exclamation from inside had her waiting patiently. A man with slightly wild black hair and a pair of thick black glasses opened it, a startled expression resting on his face.

He asked Satomi something in Japanese, and a quick back-and-forth discussion between them left Minerva utterly lost, until apparently they were invited in and Minerva was quickly reminded to leave her shoes at the door. Wondering over the custom, she stepped in and knelt awkwardly at the low wooden table in what was obviously the main room.

Satomi translated Minerva's message to the man, who looked blank for a second but then gave a little 'ah' of comprehension. Satomi translated his response to Minerva.

The man [whose name was Tatsuo Kusakabe] had adopted Harry years ago, when Sirius Black had brought Harry to him. He had owed the man several favors, and was only supposed to look after the baby for a month or so, but when Sirius never returned he decided to adopt him, and only knowing his first name had renamed him Haru.

Before the story could progress further, there was a clatter from the door and a girl's voice called out. "Konnichiwa!|We're back!|"

"|What took so long? I though school got out earlier.|" Mr. Kusakabe got up to answer them.

"|We were visiting the camphor tree!|" a younger voice spoke up. "|Totoro wasn't there, though.|"

"|Well, maybe another time. For now, we have guests, so be sure to put your things away quickly!|"

"|Guests?|" The voice this time was decidedly male. "|Who? Is it Nanny?|"

"|No, she is from England.|"

"|What, really?|"

"Does he have other children?" Minerva asked Satomi, wondering what they were saying.

"He must," Satomi agreed. "It would make sense, for him to be so willing to adopt."

There was a patter of feet and a brunette girl stuck her head through the doorway, pulling it back with a small shriek as she saw them looking straight at her.

"|Mei, that's not polite!|"

It took several minutes for all three children to sit down at the table. Minerva had to stifle a gasp when she first saw Harry-he was so like his father it was like seeing a younger James, with green eyes.

They had all bowed politely and said something-most likely a greeting-when they first saw her, and the youngest, Mei, was staring in unabashed curiosity. Satomi took several minutes to explain the purpose of Minerva's visit.

As it turned out, Harry was already attending a magical school.

"|I'm very sorry,|" he said, which Satomi translated, "|But I really do enjoy my school, and I don't think Hogwarts is really right. From what I've found out, I'm something of a celebrity, and I don't want that. I like my school right now. Perhaps if something changes I'll contact you.|"

Minerva left Japan somehow disappointed and happy at the same time- she would not see him at school, and yet Harry was so like his parents that she couldn't be unhappy.


	3. Chapter 3

**A continuation of the story in chapter one, because I liked the idea and felt like writing more. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Harry Potter.**

* * *

The conversation had gone alright.

Well, maybe not alright. Tony had managed to stay calm and not fly as far away as possible, but his teammates hadn't taken it as well.

In all fairness, finding out that Iron Man was not only not human but billions of years old and with unknown powers was a little much to take in. At least Bruce hadn't Hulked out.

In any case, they'd all eventually agreed to keep it between the six of them-something Tony was grateful for, because the last thing he needed was Fury on his ass about this, and the rest of the team probably saw how relieved he was. Clint, once he got over the initial shock, had endless amounts of questions and wouldn't leave Tony alone until Tony trapped him in the vents.

That was perhaps a bit mean, but Tony hadn't spent centuries as a Trickster for nothing. He still had a reputation to live up to.

Though, as it turned out, Fury found out anyway.

* * *

"I've called you all here for a reason."

"You didn't call us anywhere," Tony interjected. "We're still in the Tower."

Fury shot Tony a dirty look, but he didn't say anything, because it was of course true. They were still in the tower. Fury had simply shown up and demanded they all meet in an empty conference room on one of the many, many floors.

"Why are we meeting, Fury?" Steve said in an attempt to placate the Director.

"Because I want to know what the hell is going on with this team," Fury snapped.

The silence stretched on so long it was nearly palpable.

"I'm sorry?" said Clint, sounding almost offended. "What's _wrong _with us?"

"Yes," answered Fury. "Something happened with you guys a couple weeks ago, and I want to know what, because after it happened you all started acting like you were hiding some big secret." And _fuck, _Tony tried not to show his nervousness because a couple weeks ago was when the team had caught him with Balthazar.

"That sounds like an insult to my skills," said Natasha, her face blank.

"I am trying to figure out what the hell going on!" Fury pointed at her. "You and Clint have been no help, Tony avoids me, and Steve is possibly the worst liar I've ever come across."

Tony looked accusingly at Steve out of the corner of his eyes. Steve looked uncomfortable.

Fury noticed the look and swung around to face Tony. "Is it you? Have you been getting up to some weird shit that for whatever reason has gone unnoticed by everyone else?"

"Wha - no!" Tony protested, but Fury didn't look convinced.

"I am not leaving," he threatened, "Until I find out exactly what happened."

* * *

Fury took the news considerably worse than Tony's teammates had.

* * *

"So," Tony remarked as Fury sat with his head on the table. "When were you going to tell us about Coulson?"

The rest of the team swiveled to look at Tony, and Fury picked his head off the table.

"What about him?" he said guardedly, the other five watching the interaction like hawks.

"You know-" Tony raised his eyebrows. "About him actually being alive."

There was dead silence for about five seconds before everyone exploded, mostly yelling at Fury, who now looked mildly panicked.

Natasha eventually turned on Tony. "You _knew _and you didn't tell us?"

"Well, what was I supposed to say?" Tony said quickly. "I mean, how would I have known if I were a regular person?"

"How did you know in the first place?" Fury asked angrily.

Tony raised his eyebrows. "Coulson got _stabbed _in the _heart_. You think surviving that is an everyday occurrence?"

"You saved him?" Clint asked, sitting down again.

"Yeah. Out of curiosity," Tony said, still talking to Fury, "Why haven't you put him back in the field yet? I mean, you couldn't keep him hidden forever."

Fury sighed heavily and glanced around at the team. "He hasn't actually woken up yet."

Tony's eyes widened, but all six of them said "What?" at the same time.


	4. Chapter 4

**A little spinoff, inspired by a story by Fangirl1313 called 'Of Angels and Hunters'. I got to one specific part and immediately decided to write a spinoff because it seemed a little unfair and I wanted Castiel to be happy. In relation to the quote below, it says 'customary' but for the sake of the story assume it's some minor law since wizards would obviously immediately see angels as some sort of magical creature and legislate the shit out of them.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Harry Potter.**

* * *

_"Half of the reason why no angels bothered with the wizarding world was because it was customary to keep your wings bound to your back unless they were needed for immediate use."_

_-Fangirl1313, 'Of Angels and Hunters'_

* * *

The laws and rules that governed the use of angel wings had been in use for a far shorter period of time than anyone thought, considering that wizardkind had known of their existence - admittedly less for certain and more for faith - since before the Stature of Secrecy came into effect. In recent years, however, their existence became far more certain.

In the past few decades, several laws had been passed, one of the most ridiculous being the Wing Law, which required an angel to keep their wings bound painfully to their back. This had not the expected effect of keeping them from flying everywhere, as it had been intended, but instead making nearly every angel who stopped by Britain purposefully avoid the magical district.

Castiel, who hadn't at first understood the pain of binding wings, had agreed to do so in order to attend Hogwarts. His sister Anna had warned against it, and even on the train to his first year Castiel had understood why- it was incredibly painful.

He'd endured it for four years though, only taking them off during the summer, and his friends Sam and Jo and Sam's brother Dean had never really understood what it was like, since Castiel made a point to never complain about it.

He was sure, though, that Sam had seen the bandages, wrapping around his chest and even shoulders so that not a single feather was visible.

He was sure Sam [aspiring lawyer that he was] had looked up ways to get the law repealed, but as he never spoke about it it was obvious that he'd found nothing.

So Castiel resigned himself to it and told himself that it was just three more years.

* * *

It was mid fifth year when the breakthrough came, and it was only later that Castiel was told the full story.

Gabriel snatched him out of the hallway as Castiel was on his way back to Ravenclaw tower and dragged him down the hallway, gleefully shouting at any angel they passed to follow him.

"Where are we going?" Castiel managed to ask, keeping pace with his older brother.

"It's the wing law!" Gabriel said, still with a huge smile. "They've gotten rid of it!" And that took Castiel's breath away, the news sparking through the angels that had chosen to follow, and he saw some of them break off to go find their other siblings.

Every single angel in Hogwarts was gathered on the dark front lawn, mingling with the others and even tolerating any enemies they had made because this wasn't the time for infighting. Some of the older ones with more power were going around and pressing hands to people's sides, and the look immediately after told Castiel that they were probably vanishing the bindings.

Seconds after he thought that, Gabriel's hand was pressed to him and he felt the pressure around his chest loosen, his wings sagging slightly and itching to be extended fully. No one had done so yet, as if waiting for a signal or an order.

And then, when everyone's binders and bandages were gone, and they were all standing on the sweeping lawn and nearly filling it, something swept through the crowd like a wave of energy and they all leaped into the air, soaring and Castiel found himself so high above the school that the castle was only a tiny orange speck, by a lake of white reflected moonlight and Gabriel was tugging him even higher and oh, he had _forgotten _what it was like to fly so freely.

The sky that night was full of angels, though not a single one of them was visible from the ground. All of the other students were still inside Hogwarts, as if they knew that by going outside they would be interrupting something both new and older than the ground they stood on.

The angels flew until the sun rose, and no one questioned how any of them got back into their dorms or tried to wake them up for classes the next day.

* * *

**The End**

**So what did you think? Please read and review!**


	5. The Not-So-Accidental Vessel

**I should be studying for my AP and Geo exams. And yet. Here I am.  
**

**Basically, I wrote scraps of this in my remaining free time. Instead of the next chapter. Sorry.**

**Anyway, short explanation; the idea planted itself in my head when I thought 'hey, what if Harry HAD survived in the accidental vessel?' to which my brain responded, 'well then Gabriel would be at full power and he'd die anyway.' To which I responded, 'well, what if he was powerless for a different reason?' And thus, this was born.**

**Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Harry Potter**

* * *

Even at the tender age of four, Harry knew that hearing voices constantly criticizing the people around you in your head was not a good thing.

_I'm not crazy, _he told himself resolutely one night, sitting in his cupboard. _I'm not._

**_Course you're not, kid!_**

Harry jumped so badly he thought he might have hit the underside of the stairs.

**_Calm down, it's just me. _**

_Who are you? _Harry mentally demanded, somewhat spooked by the voice talking back to him.

**_Well, I suppose I'm the voice in your head._ **The voice took on a grumbling tone. **_Of course, it's not like I could be anything else, since I'm stuck in this-_ **A word or two followed that Harry was sure he had heard Uncle Vernon use before, but had never been allowed to say. **_-Er, I mean, in your head. Pretend I didn't say that.  
_**

Curious, Harry kept talking. Or, rather, thinking. _What are you doing in my head?_

**_Well. That's a really long story. One that's not really suitable for a four-year-old to hear. Ask me later, champ.  
_**

_...Okay._

**_Wow, not one protest? You're a pretty well-behaved toddler. But going by what these relatives of yours are like, you don't really have a choice.  
_**

Harry frowned as he thought about his relatives. _What's wrong about them? _Sure, they were a little mean sometimes, and when they were it seemed like it was over the tiniest things, but Harry didn't see anything bad about it. Not bad like the people on telly who Aunt Petunia kept sniffing over and Uncle Vernon kept yelling loudly about how it was a good thing they'd been locked up.

**_Hoo boy. Kiddo, you and me are going to have a long talk._**The voice did the mental equivalent of leaning back and relaxing, even though Harry wasn't entirely sure how he could tell.

_My name's Harry. Not kid.  
_

**_Well if we're going to be introducing ourselves, you can call me Gabriel._**

* * *

Gabriel was helpful a lot of the time, once Harry got used to him. He occasionally provided a good comeback when Dudley was bullying Harry, and afterwards would guide Harry down the right streets to avoid the boys who would wait for him after school, and even use a little bit of what he said was all that remained of his once-immense power to keep Dudley from getting inside Harry's cupboard back at number four.

Unfortunately, he couldn't do anything about the Dursleys or Dudley without either a) exposing himself or b) wasting his power, both of which were apparently very, very bad.

He was also no help when the only solution he could offer was to take over their shared body and to try and make Harry let him do the talking. Each time he asked, Harry refused, spooked at the idea of someone else controlling him, and after this Gabriel usually retreated for a few hours, leaving Harry with a vague sense of loneliness.

After all, Gabriel had been there as long as he could remember.

There was one time, however, when he was about seven and running frantically from Dudley and his gang, only to run into three of them at the other end of the street. Harry lost track of the time and woke up the next morning with a lingering headache and various sore spots dotting his body, but he couldn't find any bruises when he looked.

_Did you do something?_

**_Course I did._ **Gabriel, as always, was grumbling in a way that Harry had learned was his natural defense when he didn't want Harry to know that he was actually worried. **_And I've only got so much Grace left, so stop getting into trouble, kid! I can't keep healing you up all the time._**

_It's not all the time.  
_

**_Sure it isn't._**

_What happened to get rid of all your power, anyway?  
_

Gabriel was silent for a moment. **_I've got a lot of ideas, kiddo, but I don't know._**

* * *

_Hey Gabriel?  
_

**_Yeah?_**

_How are you in my head?  
_

Gabriel didn't answer immediately, but Harry got a vague sense of puzzlement.

_Not like, what happened. I mean how are we both here?_

**_Well, I ended up here - and I told you, I'm not saying how yet because I don't really understand it myself - but you were already here, so I got sort of tucked into your mind. So technically, it's our body. Not yours._**

_Oh. _Harry considered this. _So you're like my brother._

**_What? _**There was a burst of surprise. **_How did you get that?_**

_Well, we were learning about twins in science class and how sometimes they don't separate-  
_

**_Figures. _**Gabriel gave the equivalent of a mental snort. **_Trust me, I'm way older than you, kiddo._**

_Stop calling me that.  
_

**_Nope!_**

* * *

Gabriel had been right.

Harry hadn't really wanted to know what happened to his parents.

Hagrid was enthusiastically leading him through Diagon Alley, and Harry had to work to ignore Gabriel's increasingly incredulous comments as he looked over the shops which sold everything from cauldrons to live owls.

**_Cauldrons, really? Oh, gross. Harry, you're never drinking a potion._**

_I'm going to agree with you on that. _Harry eyed a shelf full of things like beetle eyes and frog parts warily.

* * *

They both agreed that Hedwig was cool, and Harry's wand was even cooler [though Gabriel sniffed that his wings were better than any phoenix's, and certainly better than a snowy owl's. He also disagreed over the name, and first insisting that Harry should name her Gabriel, which Harry countered with the fact that not only was that a ridiculous idea, Hedwig was a girl and_ his _owl, and he'd name her what he wanted to.

Harry only managed to get on to Platform 9 and 3/4 later with help from a redheaded woman, and later ribbed Gabriel about how they had walked right past it and he hadn't noticed. Gabriel retaliated by going silent for half an hour and leaving Harry with the disoriented sense that everything was much quieter than usual, even though the platform was full of the clamor of hundreds of families sending off their children.

Gabriel finally surfaced when Ron made himself at home in their compartment.

**_Is that a rat? _**Gabriel sounded as disdainful as it was physically possible to.

_Gabriel if you're just going to be rude then don't say anything.  
_

**_You're acting like he can actually hear me. Which he can't. I can be as rude as I want.  
_**

_It's still rude.  
_

**_I know. Why do you think I said it?_**

_You're impossible.  
_

* * *

To say the Sorting Hat was surprised was an understatement.

_There are two of you?_

**_Huh. The hat talks. I honestly wasn't expecting that._**_  
_

_Who are you?_

_Look, can you just sort me? _Harry thought it was probably a good idea to intervene before Gabriel and the sorting hat got into any sort of discussion and kept him there for hours.

_Fine._ The sorting hat sounded disgruntled. _Let's see...plenty of courage, and a good thirst to prove yourself...you'd do well in Slytherin..._

**_Oh hell no! You go digging through his head and then try to stick him with those stuck up pr-  
_**

_Gabriel!_

**_-Snotty rich kids?_**

_Excuse me, but I base the sorting on which traits he displays the most-  
_

**_My original point stands.  
_**

_Alright, fine._ The Hat went silent for a moment and Harry thought he might have bitten through his lip trying not to laugh. _Well, if not Slytherin, then it'll have to be-_

"GRYFFINDOR!"

* * *

**_I swear if one more person whispers and points I'm going to toss them out the window._**

_Gabriel it's my body. We agreed that you'd ask before taking over, remember? Besides, they're not pointing at YOU.  
_

People had been sneaking looks at Harry all morning, and even Ron standing next to him wasn't enough to dissuade them.

**_It feels like they are,_ **Gabriel complained. **_You're not bothered by this at all?_**

_I'm ignoring them. Try it.  
_

There was a mental humph of indignation.

_At least stop complaining about it, I won't be able to pay attention to any of my classes._

**_Please. I'd be a better teacher than any of these guys._**

_I thought you said you didn't know anything about my magic?_

**_...My point stands._**

_Sure it does.  
_

* * *

**_I don't like him, _**Gabriel told Harry as he got into bed after getting back from detention, worn out and still worried form his talk with Ron and Hermione.

_Who, Malfoy?  
_

**_Yeah. Kid left you for dead.  
_**

_So you're not at all worried about the possibility of there being a Dark Lord in the forest? _Trust Gabriel to focus on the little things.

**_Well, yeah, but he's also possessing your Defense teacher and I figure that's probably a more immediate concern._**

_What?!_

* * *

Harry, though originally very determined, was finding it hard to figure out how to explain to Dumbledore exactly how he knew that Quirrel was possessed by Voldemort.

He couldn't just tell him about Gabriel - "How do I know this, professor? Oh, the voice in my head told me." It had taken Harry himself years to really learn that Gabriel wasn't a parasite, but more of a permanent guest who didn't want to be there any more than you wanted him to even if you had kind of started to like him over time.

**_Why wouldn't you like me?_**

_Gee, I wonder.  
_

**_You're so rude, kiddo. Stop worrying! Just tell him your scar hurts around Quirrel and you're worried something might be wrong.  
_**

Harry paused, thinking. It was a pretty good idea, but-

**_It's not technically a lie._**

Well, that was probably good enough.

_I feel like you of all people shouldn't be encouraging me to lie._

**_Please. You think being an angel makes me a saint? Well, technically I am, but I can lie as much as I like. There isn't a rulebook to being an angel._**

_Well, I guess I just thought you'd be more...polite.  
_

**_If you think I'm bad, you should see Balthazar._**

* * *

**_Hell yeah! Let's fight a dark lord!_**

Dumbledore had done absolutely nothing about Quirrel, even when Harry finally talked to him, and now Harry, Ron, and Hermione were preparing to face him past whatever lay underneath the three-headed dog.

_You're not going to try and convince me to keep myself safe?_

**_I can keep you safe well enough, and this is the most interesting thing that's happened all year! Ugh, school. You have no idea how boring it is just waiting up here and watching you do homework._**

_Well, I can say that this isn't going to be boring.  
_

* * *

Harry woke up in the hospital wing several days later.

**_Finally!_**

_Gabriel?_

**_Jesus Christ, kiddo, you were out for AGES. Don't do that ever again. I forbid you. _**

Harry looked around, seeing the beds and general whiteness of the hospital wing. _What happened?_

**_Quirrel died, the stone self-destructed for some reason, Dumbles showed up at the last minuted and rushed you up here._**

_The stone WHAT?  
_

**_Is that REALLY what you're going to focus on first? But seriously kid. No more life-threatening situations._**

* * *

Petrifications at Hogwarts, a strange voice in the walls, and half the school terrified of Harry.

Yep. Not life-threatening at all, but enough for Gabriel to start trying to persuade Harry to leave the country again.

And then, of course, there came the incident with Aragog.

_**Okay I said no more life-threatening situations literally last year! How fucking hard is it to try not to kill yourself?!**_

_Or, you know, you COULD actually help!  
_

One of the spiders climbing towards them shook, glowed briefly, and fell back dead.

**_There. That's all I got. I helped. Now get the hell out of there!_**

_You don't think I'm trying?!  
_

Admittedly, the car was a surprise.

* * *

**_Harry we've been over this already do not go down that fucking pipe._**

Harry jumped down the pipe, following Ron and Lockhart's yells and sliding down into the bowels of the castle.

**_No one listens to me anymore._**

* * *

**_Okay listen to me this time because I've got the brilliant idea of letting someone who actually knows what they're doing do the fighting!_**

Harry didn't hesitate before letting Gabriel rush to the forefront, his grip tightening on the sword Harry had pulled from the hat, eyes still squeezed firmly shut since Gabriel had no way of knowing what could and what couldn't affect him while he was like this.

He could use his ears, though, and the shriek of the phoenix that had arrived out of nowhere.

And with the Basilisk blinded, things went much easier.

Except for Harry's side of things, of course, since it would be his job to think up a reasonable lie to explain how a twelve-year-old killed a Basilisk.

* * *

**_What in the name of my father and all he never did for this planet was that hideous bat creature.  
_**

_I don't know.  
_

**_WHY was it on the train?_**

_I don't know. You are literally in my brain, Gabriel, you know that I don't know. And the answer is probably going to be the same for whatever question you're about to ask.  
_

**_You are absolutely no help._**

_You did something, didn't you? Because Lupin said they bring up worst memories and I didn't see any of mine.  
_

**_...Maybe._**

_Who was the man? The one who was all torn-up?  
_

**_No._**

_What?_

**_...Leave that for another time, Harry. I don't want to talk about it._**

It was one of the only times Gabriel had ever called him Harry. Harry dropped the subject.

* * *

Even with Gabriel helping, Harry fell off his broom at the Quidditch match as the dementors swarmed - it might not have been technically him, but he woke up in the hospital wing after the match with a severe sense of disorientation, since to Harry it seemed like he'd fallen asleep on his broom mid-match and woken up there.

Harry didn't ask what Gabriel had done, and Gabriel remained [for the most part] quiet for the majority of the year.

That is, until they found Scabbers.

**_What the hell is wrong with that tree?_**

_BAD TIMING GABRIEL.  
_

**_Geez. Touchy._**

_There is literally a tree trying to kill us right now I don't have time for your commentary!  
_

**_Screw you. I could help. Hit the knot at the base of the tree._**

_The what?  
_

**_That little thing on the bark._**

_How, exactly, do you expect me to be able to get that close?  
_

**_Nuh uh. I helped. That bit's your job._**

_Oh, well, thanks._ Harry injected as much sarcasm as he could into the thought._  
_

**_You're welcome._**

* * *

**_NO!_**

Harry wasn't sure what Gabriel had done, but as he stood there over Sirius he felt his arm seize up, as if something had been suddenly cut off from it, and the uncomfortable sensation of pins-and-needles.

_Gabriel, stop it!_

**_Fuck no! I don't care who he is, I'm not letting you kill anyone! DO NOT do that to yourself, Harry. _**

_You don't get to tell me what to do! _

At that moment, Lupin came bursting in, and as Harry swung around to look at him whatever Gabriel had done to his arm abruptly fell away, and Harry almost imagined that he could hear something shattering.

* * *

_Gabriel._

He wasn't replying.

Harry was sitting on his bed in Gryffindor dormitory, trying to talk to him and wondering if Gabriel was sulking or something had happened.

_Gabriel. I know you're in there. Stop pouting._

Nothing.

_Gabriel? _Harry let his mental voice sound a little worried. Maybe that would make Gabriel stop. It usually did.

Still nothing.

Harry was starting to panic a little bit.

_Gabriel, come on. You're being mean. Talk to me._

There was the barest whisper of something against Harry's consciousness, but he didn't get anything from it and Harry's worry just increased - whatever had happened that night in the shack, especially later, it must have exhausted Gabriel.

_Okay, if you're not okay - just, don't answer. You can tell me later. Get better first._

* * *

Fourth year was a general disaster.

And that was _without _Gabriel's comments on the champions, their schools, and continued persistence that Harry ask one of the Beauxbatons girls to the Yule Ball.

_No._

**_French girls, Harry! TEENAGE French girls! How are you turning this down? Do you not know or something? Because I could definitely-_**

_I DO NOT need to know anything about THAT.  
_

Gabriel made a noise that was distinctly mental laughter. **_Come on, kiddo, you've got to learn sometime!_**

_From you? No thanks. I don't need the talk from someone who can provide mental pictures. _

**_I can do better than that._**

_NO._

* * *

"Kill the spare."

**_DUCK!_**

Harry hit the dirt ground and pulled Cedric down with him as green light exploded overhead, barely missing the two boys and knocking an angel statue off its pedestal.

Harry was still clutching his forehead in pain, and it was subsiding and coming back in waves. Cedric glanced at him and then pulled Harry up, slinging the shorter boy over his shoulder easily and taking off away from the dark figure.

_**The trophy! Get back to it! **_Gabriel's voice sounded strained, as if he were speaking while holding up an enormous weight.

Harry grit his teeth. "Cedric...the cup..."

Cedric skidded on the ground, barely avoiding dropping Harry as he dodged another spell. Harry reached up as something wet dripped past his eye and realized his scar was bleeding. His head hurt too much for him to be incredibly panicked about this development.

Both of them fell over and tumbled a few feet as a spell caught Cedric around his ankles, tripping him. Cedric whipped out his wand and shouted "Accio Portkey!"

The cup was catapulted towards them and Cedric seized Harry's hand, so that when the cup hit them both were pulled back into a dizzying mess of color and landed in a sprawled mess on a cropped grass lawn that Harry faintly recognized as the Quidditch pitch.

As feet hurried towards them and loud voices filled Harry's ears, he figured that now was probably a good time to pass out.

* * *

Harry had no idea where he was.

Last he knew, he'd been lying on the lawn and then passed out. Now, he was sitting almost on his back in some sort of murky gray room as a man with almost gold hair stood protectively in front of him, a shining silver blade raised defensively.

"Hey kiddo," said the man, sounding out of breath. "Nice to see you in the flesh."

Surprised sparked through Harry. "_Gabriel?"_

"Yep," Gabriel reached behind himself and offered Harry a hand. Harry took it, letting Gabriel haul him to his feet, and realized they were the same height.

"Wha - how did you get here?"

"I've always been here," Gabriel said, backing up. "Not a great time for questions!"

The question died in Harry's throat as he saw what Gabriel meant.

A huge, menacing, inky black shadow rose up from the corner, and Harry immediately knew why the room was such a murky color, or why it looked so bare and worn.

"Run!" Gabriel pushed Harry through a door that hadn't been there a minute ago and they took off along a hallway lined with doors, the first one slamming shut and then rattling as the shadow hurled itself against what appeared to be fragile wood.

"What the hell was that?" Harry panted.

"I don't fucking know!" Gabriel yelled from behind him. "It's your mind!"

"It's _what?"_

"Don't stop running you idiot!"

Harry caught a glimpse through several doors and was hard-pressed to listen to Gabriel. One was him perched in a tree while Ripper, Aunt Marge's dog, barked and clawed at the bottom of it. Another was him wearing the Sorting Hat, and another led into the gazebo in the park near Little Whinging where a younger version of himself was lying.

"Are these my memories?"

"No duh, kiddo!"

"But-" Harry was struck with a sense of panic as he turned around, the pair finally slowing slightly and thoroughly lost in the maze of hallways and doors and pictures. "What is that black thing doing in my mind?"

"If I knew, I'd tell you." Gabriel's eyes were a striking amber and his hair was so long it touched the collar of his green Muggle jacket. "I knew there was something weird in that little corner-"

"You _knew _it was there?!"

"Kiddo, if I knew it was anything more than a little bundle of darker-than-normal thoughts I would have told you." Gabriel snapped. "As for now, that thing came out of hiding when the guy in that graveyard showed up and I don't know what it is but it feels an awful lot like Voldemort."

"_What?"_

A door slammed behind them and both Harry and Gabriel whirled around to look.

Nothing moved.

Then a shadow reached around the edge of the corridor.

The pair took off by immediate unspoken agreement, Gabriel bringing up the rear and brandishing his silver sword.

"What does it want?"

"At a guess? It wants to be the one in control!"

"Can't you do anything about it?"

"I've been 'doing something' since you fell over in that graveyard!" Gabriel managed a snarky grin, even as he blocked the shadow from reaching past him and towards Harry. "It didn't count on there being two of us in here! Damn, your head is crowded."

"I've noticed!"

* * *

"So that's it?"

"It's your head. You can do whatever you want. That door we went through when you got here wasn't there before."

"...It seems to easy."

"It might be. But hey, I'm here to save the day if you fuck everything up."

"_Gabriel."_

"Okay, okay. Not reassuring. I get it."

...

"You can do this, you know. I mean, you've fought Voldemort, what, three times now? Impressive record for a fourteen-year-old."

"You were helping."

"I'll be helping now."

"..Thanks."

"No problem. Now let's go kick that bastard's ass."

* * *

It was an exhausted Harry who finally woke up to discover that he'd spent three days in the hospital wing, and thoroughly surprised Madam Pomfrey.

The entire school had been buzzing with news of what had happened. Classes had been cancelled, and the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students were still there, and everyone stared at Harry every moment he spent outside the dorm.

"Honestly, I don't envy you," Cedric told him as they hid in the library, the Hufflepuff's seventh-year knowledge coming in handy. "I can't imagine having dealt with this for five years, much less all seven."

"Yeah, but I don't really have a choice in it."

"Fair point. Good luck with the next few years."

"I've made it this far. I think I'll live."

* * *

**_Harryyyyy. I'm bored._**

_What do you want me to do about it?  
_

**_I don't know. We're in the Ministry. Let's break something._**

_No._

**_Please?_**

_Gabriel, we're just here to see Madam Bones about Sirius! I don't think breaking things will help our case.  
_

**_But I'm booooooored._**

_Deal with it.  
_

**_You've been in control for ages. And we've already SEEN Bones or whatever, you just decided to wait around for her to come back even though she SAID we could leave._**

_No._

**_Not even to take a look at the Department of Mysteries?_**

_No._

**_Come on. You're not curious about it at ALL?_**

_Of course I am-  
_

**_Ha! See? Let's go take a look!_**

_Gabriel-_

**_Nuh-uh. We haven't done anything exciting in AGES. Department of Mysteries._**

_...Fine._

* * *

"What are you doing?"

Harry had somehow ended up standing in front of a strange, fluttering veil in the Department of Mysteries.

He knew listening to Gabriel was a bad idea.

**_Hey, don't blame this on me._**

"I got lost," Harry improvised halfheartedly, not looking away from the veil. It was strangely mesmerizing. _What is this made out of?_

**_No idea._ **Harry could feel Gabriel's interest - it was bleeding over and making Harry lean a little bit closer than he might have. **_Feels a little bit like the power of a guy I know - or, well, knew. But that's not very likely, since there's no way wizards would have been able to make something like that._**

_Well, it is the Department of Mysteries. Maybe they didn't make it.  
_

**_Fair point. That's probably more likely.  
_**

"Hey!"

Harry turned around. Dumbledore was standing there, along with Madam Bones and two robed figures. One of the latter was holding a wide, shallow silver dish, on which stood six blue figures that looked almost like holograms. In surprise, Harry realized it was a recreation of the room they were standing in, down to the arch.

"What's that?"

"A better question," said the figure holding the dish, who turned out to be a woman, "is how did you get in here?"

"Er - I got a bit lost," Harry repeated. "I was just exploring - I've never really been to the Ministry before."

"That's unlikely," said the second robed figure, who sounded male. "But where's the other one?" He cast a curious glance at the dish.

Harry looked closer and was startled to see that, where the little figure of himself was standing, there was another one almost overlapping it - and how had the dish managed to recognize Gabriel as a separate person?

All four of them frowned over the dish - or at least, Harry assumed that the two robed Unspeakables were frowning. "Strange," said the woman. "He's overlapped with you, almost like..." Her head raised, but Harry still couldn't see her face. "You're not possessed, are you?

Harry frowned. "What kind of question is that?"

"I think I would have recognized if Mr Potter were possessed," Dumbledore said, his frown deepening. "And I can assure you-"

"Can you?"

The other Unspeakable looked up too. "Why did you come in here?"

"I already said-"

"No, I mean, _here._ Why this particular room?"

Harry shrugged, half-turning to glance over his shoulder at the arch. "Dunno. It was the first door I picked. What is this, anyway?"

"It's the Death Arch." That probably should have made Harry step away from it cautiously, but he didn't.

"So, what, people die when they go through it?"

"That's the general idea." The woman was poking at the blue figures. "Hm. This is quite curious. Maybe if I-"

She poked her wand at the two overlapping figures - Harry and Gabriel - and they fizzed and switched places on the dish, and Harry found himself suddenly being tossed aside as Gabriel was yanked to the forefront.

Gabriel staggered, attracting the attention of the other four immediately. "Jesus Christ, that's strong!"

This immediately put the other four on alarm, most likely because Gabriel's voice still had a strong flavoring of an American accent.

"I told you it was possession," muttered the woman, straightening. "And who are you?"

_Don't freak them out._

**_Please. When have I ever done anything like that?_**

Gabriel shook his arms out, getting used to using Harry's body again. "They call me Gabriel," he said, smiling winningly. "I have to admit, that's a pretty advanced bit of magic to be able to switch me and Harry out."

Dumbledore looked almost furious, while Madam Bones had gone pale and was clutching her wand. The man laid a hand over hers, blocking her from raising it, and Madam Bones shot a furious and confused look at him. "Don't antagonize it," he said. "We don't know what we're dealing with."

"Actually, I prefer 'he'," Gabriel noted. "But, for the most part, agreed." He stepped down so that he was sitting on the edge of the pedestal, still a few feet above the other four in the room. "I suppose now is when you all start freaking out and demanding I remove myself from Harry."

"That would be correct," said Dumbledore stiffly.

The woman frowned. "How long have you been possessing him?"

Gabriel snorted. "Trying to figure how much fallout you're going to have to deal with?" He leaned back. "I've always been in here - nearly as long as Harry's been around, anyways. Took him a while to get used to the visitor in his head, but we worked through it."

"Are you implying that Harry knows you were possessing him?" The man asked incredulously.

Gabriel shrugged. "More or less. Not in quite so many words, though - kid was only a toddler, I didn't want to freak him out." Gabriel paused, reconsidering. "Well, I guess technically one-year-olds are infants, right? But it was a little difficult to get a coherent message across at that point, so I waited a few years before trying."

Dumbledore was obviously attempting to process this information, Madam Bones' grip on her wand had slackened slightly, and the two Unspeakables were leaning forward in apparent interest.

"So." Gabriel stretched his legs forward. "What now?"

* * *

It had taken an hour of arguing and Harry resurfacing to convince Dumbledore that yes, he knew Gabriel was there and no, Gabriel was not at all untrustworthy, for a conclusion to be reached.

This didn't appear to be to Dumbledore's liking.

And judging by Mrs Weasley's reaction when Harry set foot in the Burrow two weeks before the summer term ended, it wasn't to hers either.

**_Okay, she's being really annoying._**

_She's just worried.  
_

**_She doesn't have to keep glaring._**

* * *

"Harry!"

"Whoa!" Harry's vision was obscured by a tuft of frizzy hair. "Wow, Hermione, I've only been gone a month or so."

"We heard the Order talking," Hermione demanded as she let go, revealing that Ron, the twins, and Ginny were also in Ron's room. "Is it true?"

**_I bet it's about me._**

_You think everything's about you.  
_

"Is what true?" Harry questioned, sitting down on the bed.

"You know..." Hermione gestured vaguely.

"What she means, Harry dear," said Fred - or was it George? - as he threw an arm over Harry's shoulders, "Is that we have heard tell of a little voice in your head."

"One who quite surprised the Unspeakables and Dumbledore himself," George added.

**_Ha!_**

_Oh, shut up._

"Oh, you mean Gabriel."

That was obviously not what they had been expecting to hear.

Fred gingerly removed his arm and Ron sat bolt upright.

"You're not serious!" Ginny exclaimed.

"Hold on, I thought you said you already knew about him?"

Hermione glanced at Ron. "We overheard the Order talking," she repeated. "We didn't think...er, we thought they were just considering a possibility."

"Oh."

"How are you so calm about this?" Ginny demanded. "Harry! You're been possessed!"

"I don't think you guys got the whole story." Harry ended up retelling the story of basically everything that had happened for the last five years, Gabriel's role fully included, and left Hermione speechless and the four Weasleys a combination of bewildered and suspicious.

"How d'you know he's not just tricking you?" Ron said warily.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Look, if you're _that _suspicious, you could just talk to him for a bit."

Hermione sat up. "Is that possible?"

Harry glanced down. Gabriel looked back up.

"Hey," he said, making Ginny jump. "Nice speaking to you in the flesh. Gotta say, it's a nice change."

* * *

_You're not going to try and convince me not to go?_

**_...Harry. I've made decisions like this before. I know I can't change your mind._**

_Even though this might kill you too?  
_

Something like a resigned sigh came from Gabriel's end. **_Look. I've been here this whole time. I get sentimental. Probably because you are. But I know how important these people are to you. I'm not gonna stop this for my own selfish reasons._**

_You didn't answer the question.  
_

**_...I think I accepted that I was going to die a long time ago. The fact that I ended up here instead wasn't planned._**

_...Alright._

* * *

"Harry, no!"

"Silence!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

A flash of green.

* * *

He was Harry.

No, he was Gabriel.

He was an archangel.

He was human.

He was watching his brother fall all over again and wishing his true form could shed tears because the all-too-human emotion was the only one that seemed appropriate because Michael had done it, he had actually done it and now Gabriel felt like he had lost two brothers instead of one.

He was wishing for friends in the cupboard under the stairs.

He left Heaven because his brothers wouldn't stop fighting and He was gone, long gone, and even Joshua and Metatron and Michael couldn't tell Gabriel where He had gone.

He was relaxing in the gazebo in Little Whinging.

He was the Trickster.

He was Loki.

He was a wizard.

His parents were dead.

His brother might as well be dead.

_He _was dead.

No, that wasn't right, he'd died a long time ago.

But he had died. Just then. Not from a blade, but from a spell.

He was...

who?

* * *

Harry gasped as he sat bolt upright, taking in the smoky surroundings and the whitish marble light in a second in the same moment that he realized his glasses were gone and Gabriel was lying across from him in the same state.

"What-"

"Beats me." Gabriel hauled himself upright, looking down at himself in surprise - he was wearing the green jacket again, Harry noticed, looking down to see that he was wearing a plain, unfamiliar robe.

"Did-" Harry slowly got to his feet. "Did you see that to?" He'd gotten flashes of it, something unfamiliar and like it had been in his head the whole time, and Harry had a sneaking suspicion that it had been Gabriel's.

"The memory reel?" Gabriel asked dryly, but Harry could tell that he was unsettled. "Yeah. We must have overlapped on the way here...wherever the hell here is. I guess I did get carried along with you."

Harry looked down at his feet. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, kid. We both knew this might happen."

"Indeed," said a new voice dryly. "I must admit, I didn't expect you to be here, Gabriel."

Both of them spun around.

"Death," Gabriel said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I intended to have a conversation with Harry," Death said, and Harry had not expected Death to be an elderly man wearing a suit and leaning lightly on a cane. An old-fashioned ring winked on his finger. "I certainly didn't expect to run into an archangel - or would that be ex-archangel?"

"I don't think I could lose the position that easily."

"No, indeed." Death flicked a hand at Gabriel, who _wavered _slightly as though he were no more than water, and Harry caught a panicked look. "Don't be so dramatic, I'm not reaping you. I simply require some privacy."

Gabriel flickered more intensely and vanished. Death gave Harry a measured look.

"Well, then," was all he said. "Let us talk. I think another setting might be appropriate, though. What do you think of pizza?"

* * *

Harry came back to himself lying on the edge of desolation.

That might have been the wrong word. More specifically, it was a huge, blasted brown spot in the middle of the forest that was completely void of Death Eaters and with Gabriel standing in the middle of it.

"Oh, good," he said. "You did come back. I thought Death might do that - for a Horseman to get involved means something big's going down."

Harry could only gape. "But - how are you-"

"Back in my own body?" There was a hint of smugness in Gabriel's voice. "Whatever was keeping me under power broke - probably as soon as you died. After that, it was easy enough to find it again."

Harry took a moment to process this. "So - we're both by ourselves now?"

"If you want to put it like that."

"What about Voldemort?"

Gabriel pointed directly downwards. Harry looked to see a blackish smear in the dirt that was vaguely shaped like a screaming face.

"Oh, gross."

"I may have gotten a little carried away," Gabriel admitted. "Whattaya say we go back up to the school and see what happened?"

* * *

**The end.**

**Yeah, that's it. No sequel chapter intended.**

**Read and review!**


	6. The Last Archangel, Except Not

**So anyway I was inspired to write this while waiting for the sequel to The Last Archangel to be uploaded. Basically, my spin on how it could go. **

**What if Gabriel does get his memories back...but they end up being traded for his memories of being Tony?**

**So much amnesia going on here.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything in connotation with the last archangel, which includes the majority of the characterization [and the bots + Jarvis] or Supernatural or the Avengers**

* * *

Tony was gone.

They had _just _managed to get his memories back and now he was _gone._

Steve didn't know whether to be upset or think that he should have expected some other problem to crop up.

"And you're telling me we have _no idea _where he might be?"

Fury was glaring around at the avengers, who were haphazardly gathered around a table in the Helicarrier, in a private room where they were sure to not be disturbed. Hill was standing next to Fury, frowning but otherwise showing no outward emotion. Jane and Darcy were still there too, as well as Happy, who had insisted on remaining since it concerned his boss.

Jarvis had taken the three kids somewhere else, and Steve wondered how they would deal with the news.

"No," Natasha replied, starling Steve out of his thoughts. "And if he really is Gabriel again, then I doubt we'll find him easily."

"Why would he leave, though?" Darcy put in. "He, like, sacrifices himself, then forgets he did, then remembers and just leaves?"

"She's got a point," Bruce murmured. "Why would Tony leave?"

"Maybe he was Gabriel and not Tony." Loki's brow was furrowed, and he was leaning against a wall, looking to be deep in thought.

"I thought you said Gabriel was Tony." Jane glanced at Thor, as if reassuring herself that she was right. "I mean, that he was Gabriel, or however it works."

"How does it work?" Happy finally spoke up - he'd been quiet for the last half hour or so, ever since they found the empty hospital bed.

Most of the people in the room glanced at Loki. Noticing this, Loki stood up straighter and sighed, rubbing his hand across his face.

"There is," he said, "A very stark difference when you get down to it. I believe he explained this to you, Captain-" Steve glanced up in surprise at being called out. "-How his soul - the soul of Tony Stark - is a separate thing from his being as an angel?"

Now everyone was looking at him. Steve cleared his throat. "Um, sort of-" What had Tony told him again? "He said that, uh, his soul sort of mixed in with his Grace - that's what he called it."

Loki nodded. "And then, when he told us that he was 'too human' to take on the Leviathan - he said he could not be both anymore. That he had to be one or the other."

Natasha was glancing at Clint. Hill and Fury were staring thoughtfully. All around the table, there was an ominous sense of dawning comprehension, and Steve hoped he was wrong about what he thought Loki meant.

"Brother," Thor said quietly. "What does that mean?"

Loki sighed again, this time more heavily. "It means that when he came back, he was simply Tony. We attempted to restore his memories, and it appeared to work, but if the process is still obeying the rule of 'one or the other'..."

"He might be just Gabriel," finished Clint. His hand flexed, opening and then closing into a fist. "So what does that mean? He's not human anymore? Doesn't explain why he left."

"When he became fully Tony again, he remembered nothing past when he became both." Loki was pointedly not meeting the eyes of anyone in the room. "I think...perhaps...the same has happened again."

Absolute silence. Steve felt like his stomach had dropped to somewhere around his knees.

"You don't think he remembers being Tony?" Rhodey asked shakily. He was gripping the back of the chair Pepper was sitting in. "At all?"

"It is only a guess. I may be wrong." Loki looked like he was hoping he might be wrong.

"It...would explain why he left." Bruce was fiddling with his glasses, and Steve thought he looked like he might be about to snap them in half. "A being that powerful in a strange place - his first instinct would be to leave."

"Which means we have zero chance of finding him, because he probably doesn't want to be found." Fury let his hand slam onto the table. "Great. Absolutely fantastic. Any more good news to share?"

"If he's even still on Earth, we still have the energy readings from the...incident...with the Leviathan. We might be able to track him using that," Natasha pointed out.

"_If _he's still on Earth?" Darcy questioned. "He can leave that easily?"

"It was never a problem when he did so before," Thor muttered.

"So he's traveled around planets before?" Jane asked, interested despite the general seriousness of the situation.

"Many times," Loki replied. "I believe he has been to Asgard before, several times at least. He already knew of my argument with Odin when we met after the, ah, Tesseract incident."

"Really?" Thor glanced at Loki. "You didn't mention that before."

"I saw no reason to."

"Alright, enough." Fury stared intimidatingly at everyone. "We're going to see if we can track down Stark - or Gabriel, or whatever the hell he is right now - and then we'll figure out what we're doing from there. Got it?"

* * *

Not surprisingly, they had horrible luck finding Gabriel [since he wasn't Tony anymore, not really].

He was definitely on Earth, though, and the occasional sightings of Tony Stark in various places [which quickly stopped occurring and even though everyone could remember them the pictures mysteriously vanished as though they'd never been there] proved that.

There were also energy readings which matched the ones recorded only a few days previously, but again it was just another dead end. Whenever SHIELD went to investigate, the location was always spotless, with not a single sign that Gabriel had been there save what had led SHIELD there in the first place.

Until things started happening.

Instead of just energy readings, events occurred in every single place that Gabriel might have been - strange happenings, people seeing and doing weird things, and SHIELD almost gave it up until Darcy pointed out that maybe Gabriel was messing with them.

The whole venture was starting to get old, until something out of the myriad of the supernatural produced a solid lead.

A single man who had been seen in every single city where something odd occurred, always either before or off to the side. He had established himself with a minor job in every single place, always close to where the event had happened, and no one could remember exactly when he'd arrived or left, or why they had hired him in the first place.

"So, what, you think if we find our mystery man we find Gabriel?" Natasha's arms were propped on her legs as she leaned over the table, where various case files and grainy security camera photos were scattered.

"I think there's a good chance he at least knows where Gabriel is," Steve said, sitting on the floor next to the same table.

Natasha glanced up at him. "You all right?"

Steve didn't look up at her. "I'm fine."

"Steve-"

"Let's just focus on finding this guy."

* * *

It was another week before SHIELD managed to figure out where this guy was going next and send in the Avengers incognito to wait for him. In a coffee shop, of all places.

It didn't take nearly as long for him to show up, all smirks and snarky comments, and Steve was forcibly reminded of Tony. He never came close enough to them, though, for Natasha to slip on the tracker they'd brought for the purpose of following him to wherever he lived.

"Plan B?" Bruce muttered as they all discreetly watched the man chat up the barista. Thor and Loki had been forbidden from coming, since they would have attracted too much attention, and Steve was glad for it. The man hadn't so much as glanced at them the entire time he was in the shop.

"Sure." Clint's lips barely moved when he replied. When the golden-haired man finally stopped flirting outrageously and sailed through the door with an exaggerated wave, Clint waited a few minutes before getting up to follow.

The rest of them waited in the coffee shop, and Steve was starting to get slightly incredulous that no one had noticed them yet. Sure, the Avengers weren't a huge thing at the moment, but that didn't mean they were invisible.

The comm unit in his ear crackled and Steve had to resist putting a hand up to it. Clint's voice came through amid a storm of static. "Hey...think...a bit...d'you mi...ing down?"

Natasha, who had faked answering her phone as soon as the comm activated, frowned. "What?" She asked. "You're breaking up, I can't hear you."

"Can...uys co...own?"

"Your signal's horrible, can't you go somewhere else?"

"No...on't think-" There was a sharp burst of static that made Bruce wince, and then silence.

"Clint?"

* * *

"Where the hell could he be?"

"Don't look at me, Steve."

"We've been looking for at least an hour."

"Maybe he's somewhere else."

"Do you think Natasha's having any more luck?"

"Probably." Bruce fiddled with his glasses. "I mean, we don't even know where he went. It's not like we can track him."

"We should have had another backup."

"We didn't think we needed one." Bruce frowned at something over Steve's shoulder. "What's that?"

Steve whirled around in time to see a door in the alleyway bang shut. He glanced at Bruce, who glanced back just as warily.

Like an idiot, Steve went over, pulled the door open, and cautiously walked in.

* * *

"You know, you guys are persistent. Like, annoyingly persistent."

It seemed a little anticlimactic that, after all their searching, when all four of them finally converged in what appeared to be the main room of the warehouse they'd been lead into, Tony was just sitting there.

Perched on the edge of the stage, head propped on one hand.

"Saw you earlier," He said airily, ignoring the shock on the faces of the four people in front of him. "Figured I might as well find out what the hell you want so badly with me. It's about him, right?" He pointed a thumb at himself. "Your buddy Tony or whatever."

"Yeah," Steve almost wasn't aware of the word leaving him.

"Great." Tony stood up easily. "Well, I'm gonna nip this in the bud, then. I get that you miss the guy or whatever, but I'm not him."

"No-" Bruce cleared his throat. "We, ah, we figured that out, actually."

The way Tony - no, Gabriel, Steve finally corrected himself - stiffened made it clear that he hadn't been expecting that response.

"Really," He replied dryly. "So, what, revenge?"

Clint frowned. "No, we came here for you."

Gabriel frowned almost as deeply, raising a finger. "I think I'm missing something here. You _know _I'm not Tony Stark...but you're not here to avenge him or whatever? I thought that was the name of your little group."

"We knew you too." Natasha was staring at Gabriel guardedly. "You were Tony Stark. You just don't remember it."

"Okay." Gabriel's eyebrows had shot up at Natasha's proclamation. "Right. Sure. Let's pretend I believe you-"

"Why else would we have this?" Loki had given Bruce the short silver sword that Gabriel had inadverdently left behind, or so it seemed, and it glittered even in the dim light of the warehouse.

Gabriel was suddenly standing right next to Bruce, even though none of them had seen him move. He grabbed Bruce's wrist, turning the sword and taking it with his other hand. "This is mine," he said, holding the blade up as if examining it and giving Steve a Look. "Where'd you get it?"

"You left it behind."

"You know, I think you four have got a lot to explain." Gabriel folded his arms, the sword vanishing under his jacket as he gave them an encompassing stare that seemed to imply _or else. _"Well? I'm waiting. Seems like it's going to be a hell of a story."


	7. Coulson, God Of Secret Agents

**Inspired by a one-shot that TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel had over on Ao3. I just couldn't stop thinking about this! It was part of a story full of follow-ups to other stories, the one called 'The Avengers: Phil is the God of Badass Secret Agents'.**

**I couldn't let this go.**

**Features the stuff from that ficlet, as well as an odd mishmash of American Gods, Supernatural, and me taking mythology and running completely wild with it.  
**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

_"You are Agent Phillip Coulson," he intoned seriously, "God of Badass Secret Agents. All hail Agent Coulson."_

_"I'm what?"_

* * *

Phil had gotten used to it. Really.

It had been odd at first. He knew what agents were 'praying' - perhaps the quotation marks were no longer necessary - for before he even saw the shrine, he knew details of every agent's mission without looking at the files or reports.

The radio playing thematically appropriate songs every time he walked into a room, he could have done without.

Yet everything seemed to be going - well, not calmly, but at least without too many incidents cropping up. And most of those were related to the Avengers getting used to working with each other, which were most of the time easily solved.

So he was really not expecting to look up and find himself in an empty train car when a few seconds ago every seat had been filled.

Empty except for the seat directly across from him, that was.

The other man grinned when Phil didn't so much as jump. "Nice," he said. "Guess you ended up with your lot for a reason, huh?"

"I'm sorry?" Phil asked politely. There was something _other _about the other man, something Phil couldn't quite put his finger on. It was a kind of...it was indescribable, really. The closest Phil could get was that it looked as though the man was both more than he appeared and so insubstantial it was likely Phil was looking at some sort of illusion.

"Don't play like that," the other man scoffed. "I can see right through that sort of thing."

"What sort of thing?" Phil frowned internally. He felt about three seconds away from figuring something out about the stranger.

"Deception. Et cetera. It's sort of become my area over the years." The other man waved his hand vaguely. "Which lumps us sorta in the same category, newbie."

It was the 'newbie' that cinched it.

"You're a god," Phil said.

The other man grinned broadly. It stretched out the marks around his lips, which Phil had noticed before - like he'd been given a skeleton costume and someone had carved in the lines where the teeth would be instead of drawing them on, except they didn't quite match up with each other. "Give the man a prize!"

"Who?"

The grin turned into a grimace. "Generally, people call me Loki. Don't-" he looked exasperated when Phil stiffened. "_Not _the same idiot who came crashing in here a while back. Believe me, I'd do it better than _that _disaster if I did it at all."

"You're saying you're _another _Loki?" Disbelief dripped from Phil's voice. He had to stop himself from reaching for his gun - it wouldn't do any good.

"Hey, how'd you get here?" 'Loki' spread his arms. "Belief, right? People have believed in Loki and Odin for thousands of years. You seriously think there wouldn't be anyone down here?"

That gave Phil pause. "How do you know what happened to me?"

"Please," Loki scoffed. "Someone shows up calling himself Loki, you bet your ass I'm gonna be all over that. Saw the stabby thing, by the way. You look good for a guy who was dead, what, six months ago?"

"Eight," Phil said. "You wouldn't have happened to have anything to do with that?"

"Only observed." Loki made an x over his heart. "Someone did, but it wasn't me."

Phil shelved that nugget of information for later, but he reminded himself that a promise of sorts from anyone calling themselves Loki was definitely unreliable. "So all gods are created from belief?" He questioned.

"Shit, no," Loki said. "_Someone _was here first to give humans a reason to believe there was anyone to believe in in the first place. No idea who, everyone in this business is biased."

"Were you human, before?"

Loki shrugged. "You stick around long enough, you forget the unimportant stuff. Might've been, might've not."

Phil decided to change the topic. Loki obviously wasn't going to share any more on that end. "What are you doing here?"

"Like I said. Lies, spies." Loki gestured first at himself, then at Phil. "Similar areas. And you're the first newbie in a while."

"Curiosity, then?"

"Something like that."

The train hadn't stopped in a while. They should have reached the next stop by now. Loki must have caught Phil's glance out the window, because he grinned again. "I called in a favor from Transit," he said.

"Excuse me?"

"Transit. She's trains," Loki clarified, in the sort of way that made it sound like it should have been obvious. "Like how you're spies. Honestly, I'm surprised there wasn't anyone else who was spies before. Maybe there was and they just became you. Or would you have become them?" Loki mused. He didn't appear to be talking to Phil at all, anymore.

"There's a goddess of trains," Phil said, deadpan. He felt like he shouldn't be surprised.

Loki laughed. "You think you're the only New one to pop up? There's plenty of you guys. Don't even get me _started _on Internet. I hear there's Artificial Intelligence somewhere."

"New?"

"Anyone who's popped up later than roundabouts the sixteen hundreds," Loki said. "Like you, newbie."

"That's not my name."

"I'm not gonna call you Spies, that just sounds weird."

Phil thought his official title was probably longer, given what Sitwell had called him originally. He was definitely blaming this on Sitwell. "That isn't my name either."

"Whatever you used to call yourself, then," Loki said, rolling his eyes. "I'm surprised you don't have more questions."

"I'm surprised you answered."

That made Loki grin. "Who said I told you the truth?"

Phil experienced a moment of intense disorientation, and he blinked and found himself back in the busy train car. Loki was nowhere in sight. There wasn't even anyone nearby with red hair.

Phil made a mental note to read up on mythology.

* * *

The next time Phil ran into the otherwordly, he was on the train again.

"So you're the one Loki was so interested in?" The woman next to him spoke up out of the blue.

Phil glanced at her, then at the people around them, who didn't seem to have registered her speak at all. The Chicago train system might be different than New York's, but train people were train people, and there was no way they were all politely ignoring the two gods. "And you are?" He asked, looking back at her.

"Transit."

"Ah." Phil gave her a closer look. Transit was a woman of an indefinite sort of age - the type of person who, if someone else was asked to describe her, would be summed up with a shrug and a comment of 'I don't know, she was just a lady on the train' or something along those lines. "And now you're interested in me?"

"Loki doesn't call in favors unless he's serious about something," Transit replied. "Besides, you _are _the newest. There hasn't been another who showed up like this since 2000."

"And who was that?"

"Internet," Transit told him. "Everyone avoids her, to be honest. She can be nice, but, well - she's the entire internet, she is a bit odd sometimes."

"Understandable."

Transit studied him. "You really are unflappable. How long have you been with us, again?"

"A few months," Phil replied, "though I can't be sure. Mythology doesn't seem to be a perfect science."

"If only," Transit said long-sufferingly. "Some of the Old can be just plain stubborn at times. Tricksters like Loki usually adapt the best, but the rest of his pantheon - ugh. I'll leave them to him."

"Was there anything specific you wanted to ask?" Phil asked, heading off what looked like a spiel of complaining.

"Not really," Transit said. "Why?"

"I happen to be busy at the moment."

"Ooh, are you here with your followers? I wondered why you were in Chicago." Transit's eyes sparkled. "This I have to see."

* * *

Phil could feel eyes on him during the entire op, and it threw him off noticeably.

After it was over, Natasha's were on him, too.

He could tell she thought he owed her an explanation, but he had no idea what he was going to say.

* * *

**Stop there? Stop there. I might do more with this, but idk.**


End file.
